


Maybe I can give you a second chance.

by LB_Mamba



Series: A Tale of Trust, Betrayal, Death and Rebirth [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (like a lot), Alexis | Quackity Needs a Hug, Angst, Arguing, Come on guys just let them have a break and a hug, Forgiveness, Gen, Ghost Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jschlatt Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Morally Ambiguous Jschlatt, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Panic Attacks, Second Chances, Swearing, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, honestly i just want them to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LB_Mamba/pseuds/LB_Mamba
Summary: Schlatt is finally dead.Then he comes back.No one is happy to see him return. Especially not himself.But maybe, just maybe, things will be alright in the end.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity & Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot
Series: A Tale of Trust, Betrayal, Death and Rebirth [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033662
Comments: 24
Kudos: 268





	1. Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back for the third and final instalment in this series !  
> Me ? Still not over the events that happened over a month ago ? Of course not, that's ridiculous.  
> You should probably read other two fics in this series if you haven't, this one heavily references them, especially the first one.  
> This is definitely not canon compliant ! It takes place after Schlatt's funeral, but Quackity didn't want to revive him at all, and the whole exile plot hasn't happened. (Yet ?)  
> Just a thing, though :  
> I am not trying to say that all abusers should be forgiven. I am aware that canon Schlatt probably shouldn't forgiven for what he's done to everyone, especially Quackity. However, this whole series is my attempt at making him more tridimensional, more human, because he and Quackity are the ones who got me into the DSMP fandom, and I love them a lot. And in this work precisely, I decided to give him a second chance, a kind of redemption. Not forgiveness. Quackity will remember what he's done. But Schlatt tries to be better. I just want them to be happy, and if modifying canon is what it takes, then so be it.  
> With that said, I hope you'll enjoy reading this :)  
> And a happy new year of course !

Pain.

So much pain.

Pain in his lungs, pain in his back, pain in his legs, pain in his chest.

Pain in his mind.

It hurt.

It hurt it hurt ithurtithurtithurtithurt-

Nothing but pain.

Then light. Somewhere.

More than pain. Consciousness. Feels.

Something was wrong.

What ?

...

The pain wasn't going away.

More light.

More pain.

Drowning, burning, bleeding, suffocating.

Memories.

Memories of a nation.

Of people.

Memories of pain.

Of betrayal.

Of suffering.

Of dying.

Dying ?

No...

... yes ?

Numbness all around him.

Pain inside of him.

More light.

Painful light.

Painful everything.

He wanted it to stop.

... he ?

Who ?

Who was he ?

He was...

He was in pain.

He was suffering.

He was dying.

No.

He was dead.

He was...

He was...

_... Schlatt._

He gasped.


	2. Fear

Quackity's eyes snapped open.

Something felt wrong. He couldn't tell what, but it did.

His heartbeat was too fast, his breath was too hasty, his hands were too moist.

Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was wrong-

He jumped out of his bed, welcoming the cold on his skin with the small part of his mind that wasn't preoccupied by the panic crawling down his back. He was shaking. He didn't like this. He didn't like feeling like this. What was wrong ? What was it ? He hadn't felt like this since... Since...

No, no, he was not going to think back to that era. To the era of the man whose name could not be pronounced. That was out of the question.

His breathing wasn't slowing down, he was- he was suffocating, he needed air, he needed to breathe, he needed-

The calm breeze on his face cleared his mind a little. Quackity slowed down, looking up at the sky. The moon seemed to stare back at him. It felt oddly comforting.

He had somehow managed to get out of the house while panicking. And to get a coat on his way. He still felt cold, but it wasn't a bad kind of cold. It was appeasing, calming. He kind of liked it. He could have stayed there for a while.

Except he didn't. For some reason, he started walking. Perhaps he needed it, he needed to walk, to think, to understand why his whole body was still screaming about something being wrong.

The man walked for a while, barely paying attention to his surroundings, to the buildings he passed by, to the people he ignored. He didn't know where he was going, but his legs seemed to. He trusted them. He didn't have much of a choice.

What was wrong ? What could it be ? Was Technoblade attacking them ? That would certainly explain his panic, but why would he be aware of it ? How ? And if not that, then what ?

He couldn't stop the thoughts from running around his head. What. Was. Wrong ? He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep before this feeling went away. If only he had anything, a hint to-

His heart skipped a beat as he noticed where his thoughtless walking had lead him.

A grave. A familiar one. Hell, he'd been there a week earlier.

He wanted to turn back, to run away from this damned place, to go back to sleep and forget everything about this night. But his instincts refused, instructing him to step forward and finally discover the source of his trouble.

He had a bad feeling about this.

Nevertheless, Quackity obeyed his instincts and walked towards the benches, looking around to try and notice anything out of the ordinary.

There didn't seem to be anything weird. He sighed, stopping for a second to rest his feet, sore after walking for so long, and looked at the sky.

The stars weren't as pretty as they had used to be.

He still couldn't think of anything but the feeling of wrongness crawling through his body. He sighed again, and looked down, getting ready to leave the place that still creeped him out.

That was when he saw it.

Him.

He wondered why he hadn't seen him sooner. Sure, it was very late at night, but his clothes were bright enough for him to be clearly visible in the light of the lanterns. Had he just appeared out of nowhere... ?

Still, there, in front of the stone altar, stood something.

Someone.

Looking up at the portrait of the deceased tyrant.

Of himself.

Even from behind, even with different clothes, Quackity recognized him. He would have recognized these curled, imposing horns anywhere.

"Schlatt... ?"

The silhouette flinched and immediately turned around, meeting the Mexican's eyes for a split second.

Quackity started shaking, his legs crumbling under his weight. He tried to step back, only for them to give in and make him fall to the ground ; he instinctively closed his eyes and hit it with a small groan of pain.

When he opened them again, Schlatt was gone.

It had all happened so fast. Had he hallucinated ?

A part of him wished he had.

But another part of him knew he hadn't.

Because he had proof that ghosts existed. Because Wilbur's ghost was going around distributing blue to the people he liked.

Because the feeling of wrongness in his chest had been appeased a little. Because it was still present, it hadn't disappeared, but it was weaker, more distant, as if he had discovered the source of the problem but not cured it yet.

Because that wasn't the Schlatt he had known. Because this hair, this blue sweater didn't belong to the man that had ruined his life barely a few months earlier. Because what Quackity had just seen on his face, he had never seen before in any situation.

The ram's hands going to his chest in an attempt at protecting himself, his ears flattening back against his skull, his eyes widening and his mouth opening in a gasp.

That had been fear.

Quackity had never seen Schlatt afraid.

Schlatt had always been in power. Anger, smugness, menace, those he had been familiar with. But fear ?

Even in his last instants, even right before he had died, he hadn't lost his smirk. Even faced with his defeat, with his failure, he had stood and resisted everyone who had opposed him.

Even in death, he had refused to let them win.

(Quackity usually tried to avoid thinking about that part.)

But never, in his time spent by his side, had Quackity seen him afraid of anything.

Let alone his vice president. Ex-vice president. It didn't matter anymore.

Except it did, apparently, since the man's ghost had returned.

Why ? What was he doing in L'Manberg ? Hadn't he understood that no one wanted him back ?

Quackity shook himself out of his shock. Schlatt had disappeared for now, but he probably would come back. He had to warn the others.

... then again, would that be the best option ? He wasn't fully certain this wasn't a dream. Or well, maybe he was, but he still had to be rational and consider the option of having imagined everything.

And even if it was true, there was no telling if Schlatt would indeed be back. After all, why hadn't he manifested himself earlier ? Before the funeral, before Quackity ate his heart ? And that fear- if he feared him that much, then surely he wouldn't come back to haunt him, right ?

No, he was going to keep that to himself. There was no point in telling the others and make them panic, wake up the trauma and the pain the horned man had caused them. Maybe he would try to inconspicuously question Wilbur about it.

For now, though, he just wanted to go back to sleep and forget what had just happened.

So he just walked away, unaware of the figure staring at him from afar, panic still beating in their chest.


	3. Forgotten

Schlatt definitely was back.

It was subtle, honestly. Subtle enough for Quackity to be the only one to notice.

But the succession of events couldn't be a coincidence.

First it had been the grave. Someone had gone there and thrown the portrait of the deceased man to the ground. That wouldn't have been very surprising in itself, since many people would jump on any opportunity to disrespect his memory, if it hadn't been discovered the very morning after Quackity had seen the ghost.

But he hadn't said anything and no one else had really paid attention to it. They had just gone one with their lives as usual.

The second incident had been a little more suspicious, but not exactly worrying either. All of Schlatt's remains had simply disappeared. The bones Tubbo and Tommy had kept, the ones Puffy had been selling, everything that had been kept inside his coffin, all of it had just... vanished. As if they had never existed. Which they had, according to Quackity'd fresh memory of devouring the man's heart.

Once again, they had shrugged it off and forgotten about it. What would anyone have done with them anyway ? Revive him ? Who would have wanted that ?

But then the third incident had happened inside of the newly rebuilt White House. When they had walked in one morning, they had been faced with pure chaos. Papers thrown everywhere, fallen furniture. Glass shards and liquids covering the floor and the sickening stench of alcohol, coming from too many smashed bottles to only have been from the White House's stash. Asking around L'Manberg had quickly revealed that every single bottle of alcohol in the neighborhood had been stolen during that night by someone who hadn't taken anything else. Everyone was confused as to how the hell the intruder had managed to come into so many houses without any sign of breaking in ; Quackity wasn't.

But no one ever saw the man himself.

Quackity sighed.

This whole story was starting to weigh on everyone's minds, but he couldn't reveal what he knew to them. He couldn't. Because the idea of a mysterious person going around causing mischief certainly wasn't as scary as the thought of Schlatt returning was. And what would it change anyway ? He would just wake up trauma people were trying to heal from, and they wouldn't be able to do anything about it since they couldn't just get rid of a ghost.

He sighed again, getting up from his chair to walk around in his office. It had been cleaned up since the incident, but he could still smell the vague smell of alcohol. Or perhaps he was imagining it.

It was getting late, after all. A quick look at his clock confirmed that he should have left the building a long time ago, making him curse under his breath. He walked out of the room to patrol and make sure that everyone else had already gone home, which they had, since they weren't as irresponsible as he was.

After all, both the president and his vice president were still young. Too young to bear so many responsibilities maybe, but he didn't exactly have a say in it. And he was one to talk, given his own age.

A yawn escaped his mouth, clear sign that it was time for him to stop thinking and to go to sleep. He didn't like walking around the White House at night as much as he used to. Reminded him of a time, of conversations he wanted to forget.

Not going there, he thought as he opened the main door.

He immediately froze in his spot as his eyes crossed another person's.

Scratch that, not any other person.

Schlatt.

Standing there, in the middle of the path. Not doing anything. Apparently just observing the White House.

He didn't seem to react when he saw Quackity, but something in his eyes reminded him of the other night.

The two of them stayed still for a moment, staring at each other, trying to discern the other's intentions.

Quackity was the first one to break that silence.

"Well well well, you _are_ back, aren't you ?"

The spirit flinched a little when he heard his voice, and took a step back ; he was visibly trying to keep a stoic poker face, but the twitching of his ears betrayed him. He was uneasy.

"What, so you're all cold and silent now ? What is that all about, huh ? You just come back and don't say anything ? And what the hell did you do to the White House ?"

Schlatt still wasn't saying anything. The anger started pooling in Quackity's chest. The man had the nerve to show up again, after everything he had done, and refuse to talk ??

"Hey you fucker, I'm talking to you !" he barked as he started stomping towards the horned man, with the firm intention to punch him, ghost or not.

A yell.

"Don't fucking touch me !"

Quackity froze again.

That... that was Schlatt's voice, yes. But at the same time, it couldn't be.

It wasn't the first time he heard these exact words coming from him. After an argument, after drinking, after a date turned sour.

They had always been said in that particular tone. They had always been filled with disgust, with repulsion, with anger.

Fear was new to the list.

Well, the anger was there too. But even that one didn't feel familiar.

Schlatt's anger had always been hot, a blazing flame burning everyone around him, consuming him like a candle until he inevitably grew bored of it.

But now ?

Quackity didn't think he had ever felt as cold.

Each word was a shard of ice piercing right through his chest.

That didn't make sense. None of it made sense. This wasn't the high and mighty Schlatt, smug and spiteful until the very end.

It was like dying had made him come back as a different person, just like... just like...

"Oh," he whispered before a laugh escaped his lips, small at first but quickly growing into a dark storm of laughter. "Oh no, you don't. You don't get to do this."

Schlatt's ears went up in confusion.

"Let me guess," Quackity continued, his demented smile growing by the second, "you just forgot ! Just like he did ! You conveniently forgot about everything you've done, all the pain and suffering you've caused to everyone, and now you're back and you don't understand why no one wants to see your fucking face ! Huh ? Is that what's happening ? Glorious, really ! So what, are we supposed to forgive-"

"I haven't forgotten shit, _Quackity_ ," Schlatt cut him off.

His name was filled with so much venom that it made him recoil.

That didn't appease his anger in the slightest.

"Oh ? Then what makes you think you're fucking welcome here ? What makes you think any of us wouldn't kill you on sight if we had the opportunity to ? Huh ? Please do enlighten me ! I can't wait for your explanation !"

Schlatt didn't answer. Somehow that fueled Quackity's rage even more than if he had.

"Come on ! Speak, you fucking coward ! Why the hell are you back ?" he growled, taking another step forward.

Schlatt didn't move this time. He just stayed still, staring at his ex-vice president, and it made him go crazy because he needed an answer, he needed to understand why he had to suffer again because of a dead man.

"Answer my fucking questions, you bastard ! What. Are you. Doing here ??"

"I don't fucking know, ok ?"

The ghost's shout seemed to surprise both of them. Quackity took a step back. Fuck, that voice brought back so many horrible memories, and yet there it was again. That hint of confusion, of fear. It disturbed him so much. But he wasn't going to let go of his anger that easily.

"Don't fucking yell at me, asshole ! I'm the only one who gets to be mad in this situation !" he shouted back, pointing at the man standing in front of him.

"You think I'm happy here ? You think I wanted to come back to a place where everyone hates my guts, where I got betrayed again and again until I fucking died ? Fuck you man ! I thought death was the only relief I'd get and I didn't even get that !"

"You have the audacity to talk about relief when you were the fucking problem we had finally managed to get rid of, only for you to come back ? You got one fucking thing right, man, and it's the fact that none of us fucking want you here ! Fuck you ! Fuck you and everything you've done ! You don't fucking deserve to come back ! You don't deserve anything ! You know what ? I wish you were still alive so I could kill you with my bare fucking fists ! I hate you so much. Why don't you understand that you ruin everything you touch ? Huh ? Why don't you understand that the only thing you're doing by being here is causing everyone pain ? And you dare try to tell me about _your_ happiness ? Get the fuck away from me. Get the fuck away from all of us. If you lay a fucking finger on Tubbo I will find a way to bring you back from the dead and I will rip out your fucking guts and do everything in my power to make sure you don't fucking come back ever again to haunt us. Fuck you man. Fuck. You."

His screams slowly got quieter as he approached the end of his speech because his breath ran out ; he had to stop and take a deep inspiration.

For some reason, his rage started fading away too.

He didn't want to yell anymore. He just wanted this to stop. He had suffered enough. He was tired.

That was when he finally noticed that Schlatt hadn't even tried to interrupt him.

In fact, the man was staring at him with eyes wider than they ever had been, his arms pressed against his chest in fear, his breathing visibly faster than it had been before.

He was shaking.

He was fucking terrified of him.

No, no. He had no right to play victim. He had absolutely no right. Quackity's anger was justified. He had been the one to suffer from the other's behavior, not the contrary. He was the victim.

And yet when he opened his mouth to say it out loud, the words died on his tongue. He was tired, so tired. He deserved closure, he deserved to rest. He deserved to put an end to this.

"You know what, Schlatt," he sighed, his voice calm again. "I'm just... I'm done. You know, for a while, at the beginning of our presidency, I thought, I don't know, that things could go well. I thought there was more to you than the cruel businessman everyone made you to be. Hell, I was so optimistic after that one night, when you opened up to me about your trust issues and everything. But I guess I was just naive. I guess you truly were nothing but an asshole. So yeah, goodbye, farewell and all that shit. I meant what I said about Tubbo. Just... go away and don't interact with us ever again. I won't tell him I've seen you, he's suffered enough because of you. Please just leave now."

And Quackity started walking towards his home, walking through the ghost standing in the way, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he did. He didn't feel anything but a slight coldness as he did. He ignored it. He wouldn't have to experience it again anyway.

"What are you talking about ?"

The voice made him stop dead in his tracks. He turned around, facing Schlatt who was now staring at his hands, his face unreadable.

"I thought I'd told you to leave ?"

"I... I know, I'll do it. But... but what _are_ you talking about ?"

Quackity raised an eyebrow, but he didn't reiterate his request. He didn't know why. Perhaps he was curious about the hint of distress the ghost's voice contained ?

"I don't know, what the fuck are you referring to ?"

"That... night you mentioned."

"The one during which you confided in me ?"

"That didn't happen."

Ok, now Quackity was frowning. What the fuck was the ram on about ?

"The fuck do you mean "That didn't happen" ? Of course it did. Are you on drugs ?"

"No, no, it didn't happen. I don't remember it. Why would you lie to me about that ?"

Quackity's frown deepened. Being accused of lying when he remember fully well what had happened was irritating, but something about the way Schlatt was acting made him uncomfortable. What ?

"Yeah, why the fuck would I ? It happened. You asked me when I was going to betray you, then you talked about your trust issues and we huggedw I don't know, maybe you were too drunk to remember. I mean-"

"No, no, that's impossible," the ghost cut him off, "because I clearly remember everything that happened, even when I was drunk. Even better than I did when I was alive. So why can't I remember what you're talking about ?"

God, Schlatt sounded genuinely panicked.

Quackity's natural compassion was starting to override his anger and he was not going to let that happen, so he focused on the hybrid's words.

Why would he forget such a thing ? The only other ghost the alive man had come in contact with was Ghostbur, and the two obviously weren't in the same situation since the guitarist claimed to only remember the positive memories of his life, while Schlatt seemed to remember negative ones, considering his reaction when he had seen Quackity and his general behavior, but not the night he should have seen as a good memory... ?

No.

_No way._

"Schlatt... do you... do you remember the day of the elections ?"

"You mean the day I banned Wilbur and Tommy from Manberg ? Yeah I do, what does this shit have to do with-"

"No, I mean, do you remember the moment they announced the winner ? The moment _you_ won ?"

Schlatt's mouth opened, undoubtedly to throw another sarcastic remark at him.

Except he didn't say anything.

He just stood there, his eyes fixated on something that didn't exist, visibly rummaging through his memories to find the one that was requested.

Visibly unable to find it.

His eyes filled with fear.

He let out a yelp of pain and took his head between his hands.

"I- No, I- I do remember it, I- Of course I do- that- that doesn't make any sense- why- why why why ? Why is it not here ? Why can't I find it ? I should remember it- I should- I-"

"Schlatt," Quackity interrupted him again with more strength, "what is the happiest memory you can remember ?"

Schlatt's breath became even faster than it already was, his shaking intensifying to the point he couldn't even be compared to a leaf. Words still escaped his mouth, but they weren't even connected to each other anymore. He was just spluttering senseless sounds.

Their eyes met.

The terror and the agony Quackity saw inside of Schlatt's made him physically recoil.

"... Schlatt ?" he whispered, uncertain of what to say.

The man fell to his knees.

"I don't..."

His voice was shaky, weak, broken.

"I don't remember."

Silence fell over them.

What did that mean ? Why did Schlatt only remember the negative aspects of his life while Ghostbur got to keep the positive ones ? That made no sense. Were there afterlife rules that determined what happened in this kind of situation ? What was going on ?

Quackity looked at Schlatt's shrunk silhouette again. What a sight that was. The once powerful, cruel, megalomaniac tyrant, reduced to a shaking mess. The ghost seemed so... fragile.

He didn't like that sight.

He should have been enjoying it, though, right ? Enjoying seeing his ex-abuser so powerless. It should have felt gratifying, a revenge for all the times he had been in that exact same position.

But it also reminded him of that night, of how fragile, how human Schlatt had been when he had admitted being prepared to be betrayed again, like he had been many times before.

It reminded him of how hopeful he had been after that conversation.

It felt like he was finally seeing the Schlatt he had gotten a glimpse of on that evening.

The Schlatt he had thought to be the real Schlatt.

Quackity sighed, and kneeled down in front of the ghost's shivering form.

"Listen, man... from what I can gather, I think... I think you can only remember your bad memories. Am I right ?"

No answer. No sarcastic quip, no "oh, really ? Thanks, I hadn't noticed", nothing. Nothing but silence.

Eventually, Schlatt gave him a small nod.

"Ok. Ok. I... God, you're such a pain in the ass and I hate you. But uh- I can't leave you like this. Uh... I'm not qualified to deal with this... any idea of why you can't remember the good ones ?"

More silence. Schlatt shook his head.

Great, they weren't getting any further.

"Uh... have you, I don't know... interacted with anyone ? Other than me ?"

He was almost certain the ghost hadn't come in contact with any other member of L'Manberg, of course, but maybe he had talked with, who knows, Technoblade ? Dream ? Dream was the one in charge, he probably knew about him, right ?

But Schlatt shook his head again.

"You..." He coughed, his voice hoarse and hesitant. "You were... the first to see me. I haven't been around for long... reappeared on the evening we saw each other."

Quackity was expecting him to stop there ; but for some reason, he kept talking. Perhaps he needed it ?

"It was... it was awful. Like all the pain, all the suffering I'd felt and caused during my whole life was coming back to hit me at once. I woke up, and everything was wrong, and everything hurt. It fucking sucked. I raised my head, and there was this portrait of myself staring back at me and his gaze burned my skin. I... wanted to go back to the void, to the nothingness I'd experienced. But I couldn't because I was a goddamn ghost and I had to live again. So I tried to drink my ass off like I'd always done to avoid my problems, and of course it didn't work because I was a fucking ghost. I got angry. Sorry about the fucking bottles I guess."

"Yeah, why the hell did you steal all of L'Manberg's alcohol ?"

Schlatt just shrugged, answering the other man's question with a huff.

"I... I didn't want to appear in front of you ever again. Any of you. I don't even know what I was doing here. Just... an intuition I guess. God, I'm fucking pitiful aren't I ? Relying on my instinct and shit."

His eyes were avoiding Quackity's. He... Was he ashamed ? Schlatt ? Ashamed ? No way.

"But you don't want to see me ever again. None of you do. So uh... yeah. I'm just going to... become invisible."

As he spoke, his legs became more transparent than the rest of his body was. God, he was just like Ghostbur.

... he was, wasn't he ?

"Wait, wait, Schlatt. You said you hadn't interacted with anyone except me, right ?"

Schlatt finally raised his head, as well as an eyebrow.

"Yeah ?"

Quackity sighed, raising his hand to his forehead. He was going to regret this, but screw it.

"I... I think there's someone you need to talk to."


	4. A new beginning

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't hang around here at night. We'll try to find him tomorrow," Quackity had declared before walking away, back to his house.

Schlatt had just awkwardly sat on its porch until morning, waiting for the man to come out and show him whatever - whoever - he wanted to show him.

And when the sun had been high enough, Quackity had emerged from the building and made a sign with his head to tell him to follow him.

Which was how they ended up walking together, in silence.

It was such a strange feeling, just... walking side by side with Quackity.

Familiar but foreign.

The sight of the man himself only served to cause more pain, more regrets, more self-loathing than he already felt.

He wanted to appreciate being able to see him, he truly did.

But each time their eyes met, it was like he was brought back to his presidency.

Brought back to the lies, the hatred, the betrayal, the pain.

Heh, who was he kidding. Those weren't the most hurtful.

No, the real pain came from the knowledge.

The knowledge of what he had done, the knowledge of having hurt and traumatized everyone around him.

Fundy, who had been looking for support and love and had found nothing but rejection and abandonment.

Tubbo, who had wanted nothing more than peace and happiness after the war and had been met with only loneliness and suffering.

Quackity.

Quackity who had come to him, in need of power, but also and mostly in need of recognition, of appreciation, of belonging. Who had tried to befriend him, and who he had disappointed, who he had ignored and verbally abused, who he had let down.

He had let all of them down.

Quackity may have been right. Maybe he only remembered the bad parts of his life.

He didn't like that idea, though.

Maybe because he remembered most of it.

He remembered most of his childhood. He remembered most of his teenage years. He remembered most of his adulthood.

He was pretty sure that he remembered his days in L'Manberg almost perfectly well.

He remembered what an asshole he had been, how shitty each and every of his actions had been, how deserved everyone's anger had been.

"There he is," Quackity's voice interrupted his thoughts.

The man wasn't as furious as he should have been. Schlatt didn't know why he had accepted to even talk with him, let alone calmly. He didn't deserve to be forgiven, and the fact that some of his memories may have been missing didn't change that.

That didn't matter for now, he decided as he looked in the direction he had been indicated.

They were in front of a tree. A basic tree, just standing there in the middle of a lump of grass.

And sitting in front of a tree was a man.

A familiar man.

Who seemed to be focused on tuning a wooden guitar, his head turned down and his hair covering his eyes.

Schlatt knew him, of course he did. But he seemed so... different.

"Wilbur... ?" he whispered, unable to believe what he was seeing.

The man's head immediately perked up and their eyes met. A second passed before his face glowed up with joy.

"Schlatt ? Is that you, old friend ?" Wilbur exclaimed, putting his guitar aside to stand up and run up to his interlocutor.

Who he hugged.

Schlatt was taken aback.

Firstly, because he hadn't had any human contact in a long time. None since his death. Hell, since even longer than that, since... since...

He didn't remember. Yeah, that would have been a happy memory, wouldn't it ? Of course he had to have forgotten it. Fucking hell.

But what surprised him the most about that hug was that he hadn't been _able_ to touch any other human being since his death, because he had simply gone right through them.

Which could only mean one thing, he realized with a gasp.

"Wait, wait, wait," he spluttered as he struggled to get out of the man's embrace. "You... you're dead too ?"

The guitarist's eyes widened in confusion and fear.

"Wait... what do you mean, too... ?"

There was a moment of silence. None of them was quite sure what to say next. Both of their faces showed how lost they felt.

"Schlatt... you died ?" Wilbur broke the silence as his hand awkwardly went to his other sleeve.

Schlatt looked at his eyes and saw nothing else than pure confusion and sympathy in there.

That was weird, because he remembered those eyes very well.

He remembered them, fearful as they saw him banishing their owner out of his own nation.

He remembered them, furious as they glared at him publicly executing a child.

He remembered them, triumphant as they stared at him dying on the floor.

"What do you mean, Wilbur ?" The other ghost flinched as he heard the icy edge of his tone. "You were there. You watched me die."

"Schlatt, I'm sorry, I-"

"He doesn't remember," Quackity interrupted him. "That's what I was talking about- what I was accusing you of. Schlatt, meet Ghostbur. The spirit who basically only remembers the positive aspects of his past life. Ghostbur, meet... what, Glatt ? The spirit who basically only remembers the negative aspects of his past life."

Another silence followed the man's declaration.

"I thought- y'know, I thought, I don't know, that you'd be able to exchange your memories or some shit. I mean, if one of you has the positive and the other had the negative, you'll end up with a kind of complete story, right ?"

None of the ghosts answered. Quackity sighed.

"Look, guys, I can- I can leave you two alone if you want to ? But like, I'm pretty sure Schlatt needs to talk with someone who has known him for a while, and I guess talking can't hurt you either, Ghostbur."

More silence. Quackity sighed again and started to walk away, only for Schlatt's hand to grab his sleeve. He didn't know why he had done that. He did't know what impulse had pushed him to act like this, but hell, here he was, gripping the man's sweater with the tip of his fingers, as if he was scared that it was going to burn him but couldn't help hanging onto it.

"... please stay," he managed to get out after another few seconds of awkward silence.

He guessed more than saw Quackity's tired smile as the man walked back up to him and sat down on the grass, encouraging the other two to imitate him with a sign of the head, which they did.

There was even more silence.

"... so, Wilbur."

Schlatt's voice was weak and he hated it, but he couldn't use his powerful businessman voice now. It would have felt wrong, the setting was too intimate, the subject too personal.

"What exactly do you remember ?"

The man had raised his head when he had heard his name ; the rest of the sentence traced a timid smile on his face.

"Well, I can't seem to recall much before I was... what, five ? Six ? I don't know, I'm not sure, but I remember living with Phil and Techno. I remember running around and playfully fighting with him. He was always the villain, and I was the hero. I never really understood why he wanted to be the villain, but each time I asked, he just shook his head and answered "A good villain is more interesting than any hero will ever be". I... I'm still not sure I understand, to be fair."

Oh really, Schlatt thought bitterly, his mind going to the last few months of his life, to the insanity Wilbur had been slowly slipping in, to the powder and the blaze. A quick look to his side informed him that Quackity was thinking the same thing, but none of them interrupted him.

"I remember the day we found Tommy !" the ghost exclaimed, joy dripping through his voice. "Just rummaging in the trash like a little raccoon. He was cuter than he is now, but just as much of a gremlin. It took a few weeks for him to acclimate to the family, but once he did he became the loudest of us all. Even Phil couldn't shut him up !"

That wasn't difficult to imagine. Schlatt smirked a little.

"And then we found Tubbo ! Tubbo in a box ! Tubbox !"

Schlatt's smirk instantly dropped, memories of the festival coming back to his mind. Later, he thought as he buried the feelings deep inside of his chest.

"God, he was adorable. A little angel, the perfect little boy. And the exact opposite of Tommy. They made quite a pair, those two. Still do. I don't think they'll ever be separated by anything."

Anything other than Schlatt exiling Tommy ?

Later, later.

Repress.

"And then, well... life went on, I went to school and to college, and after that I went on adventures and that's when I met you ! Schlatt ! You do remember that, right ?"

Oh, no.

The hope growing on Wilbur- _Ghostbur_ 's face was mirroring the shame and pain rising inside of Schlatt's stomach.

He didn't remember meeting Wilbur.

He remembered the man, yes ; but not how they had met, not the beginning of their lives together, not the good times.

Only the end.

He shook his head negatively, avoiding his interlocutor's eyes to try and ignore the disappointment he knew he'd find there.

"Oh... oh. It's- it's ok. I guess I'll have to remind you, then. Uh... we met on a sunny day, in some town- I don't remember its name. You were going around, trying to trick people into buying something, I think you called it a Schlattcoin ? And I wasn't interested at first, you know, but then you looked right into my eyes and you smirked, and it felt like I was a pray trapped by fear under a predator's gaze ! And you walked towards me and handed me this shiny round coin with an S engraved, and I was so confused because I was pretty sure I had to buy it from you but now you were giving it to me freely ? So do you know what I said ?"

Schlatt shook his head, slowly gained by Ghostbur's playfulness.

"I stood there and I said, "Nice horns man", and you just stared at me with a look that said "the audacity of this bitch" and I just- Exploded with laughter !"

Which he did a second later, and both Quackity and Schlatt giggled with him because his enthusiasm, his enjoyment were so contagious.

"And then," Ghostbur continued after he managed to get his lungs back under control, "you laughed just as hard and passed an arm around my shoulders and took me to the closest bar. Which, when I think of it now, sounds extremely suspicious, but somehow led us to becoming friends !"

Their eyes met, and Schlatt found himself smiling. It was small, yes, but it was still a smile. It had been a while since he had managed to make one of those.

"We lived things together, a ton of things- I remember escaping the water and the lava, running around, making jokes, I remember a lot from that time ! It was a good time, I think."

He interrupted himself, gazing far away at his memories, as his smile grew softer, but also more nostalgic.

"And then I met Sally."

Sally ?

"My girlfriend."

Oh.

"She was... she was perfect. She was amazing. She was ethereal, like a goddess walking on Earth just for the pleasure of outshining us poor mortals. I loved her so much- and I don't know how I managed that, but she loved me too ! Can you believe it ? I was the happiest of men when she accepted to date me, and I stayed blissful for our whole time together. She was a wild card, she was free and always running through the world ! She was the one who asked me to come with her to the Dream SMP, and I said yes, of course. That's also when we started losing contact, I think, Schlatt. It was- well, you know. I left and you stayed. Letters were never your forte."

But they sure were Wilbur's. Always the romantic, painting his paper with coffee, burning the sides, perfuming it and sealing the envelope with an actual wax seal.

"Then we got Fundy, of course. My son, light of my life. Well, that's not what I called him in the beginning, but as soon as he announced who he truly was, the name I had given him got forgotten and he became who he is today."

Huh ?

Wait, what did that mean ?

Was Fundy... transexual ?

Oh no.

_Oh no._

His last words to the fox came back to his ears along with the burning shame and self-hatred coursing through his veins.

_"I'm what you'll never be."_

_"I'm a man."_

Come to think of it, he had thought that everyone had been reacting weirdly strongly for such a mundane sentence, hadn't he ?

Yeah.

What an asshole he had been.

What an asshole he still was.

Fuck- the thoughts were coming back up. Quick, Wilbur's voice-

"... I don't remember her leaving. It must have been a bad memory, but Techno told me that she had left because she needed to be free, to see the world, and well, Techno wouldn't lie to me, right ? Techno wouldn't lie to anyone to please their feelings anyway."

Yeah, the pig wasn't exactly known for his tact or his diplomacy. That made him unlikeable to some, but then again, Schlatt was similar to him in that aspect.

"But yeah, I kept raising Fundy alone, until Tommy and Tubbo came to the SMP too, and then, you know, the Revolution happened, I met a lot of people - like Niki ! I haven't seen her in a while - and we all built L'Manberg together ! I became the president of course, and you were there too Schlatt, I remember you, and then there were the elections and I won !"

He what now ?

Schlatt glanced at Quackity, only to see that the other man was as confused as he was. The Secretary of State just lightly shook his head in a "Just go along with it" motion, so the ghost refrained from correcting the other.

"And there were people cheering for me, so many people ! And then... and then..."

Ghostbur's face fell, and his animated hand gestures began slowing down.

"Then it's very blurry... it hurts when I try to remember too much... but I still recall the taste of salt, and a big explosion, and..."

The man's voice got quieter and quieter as he talked, his eyes staring at the ground with a haunted look, as if something was replaying in his mind.

"And Philza stabbing me to death. With his sword."

Silence fell upon them again. Tenser than it had been since the beginning of their conversation. Ghostbur was slightly shaking, his hands going to his chest where he had most likely been stabbed.

Schlatt could relate to the pain and anguish of remembering one's own death.

He laid a hand on the other ghost's knee, watching as he startled at the contact, then met his eyes with a sad attempt at a smile.

"And then, well... I woke up and I was a ghost, and things were as they are now. But I think... I think I did bad things, because a lot of the people here seem to resent me, but no one has really told me what I had done yet."

His gaze hardened, his face tensing up as he grabbed Schlatt's hand and stared straight into his eyes.

"So do you, Schlatt ? Do you remember the bad things I've done ?"

Ghostbur's sudden determination surprised Schlatt. He had assumed the man would rather ignore his past misdeeds and profit from the new opportunity he had been given, but he seemed to be stronger than that.

"He doesn't."

Quackity's voice startled both of them, and they turned to look at him. He was avoiding their eyes, staring at the ground as he continued speaking.

"He died before you did, Ghostbur. He didn't witness what you did after his death. The reason why people act weird around you."

"... Oh," the ghost whispered, visibly disappointed. "I see..."

Schlatt couldn't help but feel guilt despite not being guilty of anything - hell, it wasn't his fault he died first, was it ?

He just shrugged to try and mask his feelings, looking away at the still rising sun ; but his ears moved on their own as he heard Ghostbur's voice again.

"What do you remember, then ?"

Ah, of course, it was his time to talk now. That had been the point of their whole visit, hadn't it ?

"Uh, nothing good," he uttered. "I don't remember what you did anyway, so uh, it doesn't matter."

"But it does."

"Huh ?"

Ghostbur's eyes were grave, his whole face was serious.

"Schlatt. You remembered me, right ?"

"Uh, yeah, of course, yeah ?"

"Then I want to know what I did to become a part of your bad memories."

Oh no. He really had to talk, now, right ?

"... You sure you don't want to ask, I don't know, Quackity over there ? He remembers a lot more than I do, y'know."

"I'm sure, Schlatt." The ghost squeezed his hand. "Please."

Schlatt let out a long sigh, his eyes going to Quackity for help, but the bastard only shrugged, leaving him to his despair.

"... Very well, then. Sit down and fasten your belt, motherfuckers, here comes the sad story of my life."

His joke didn't make anyone smile, and even himself hadn't managed to show enough enthusiasm for it to seem entertaining. He sighed again.

"Well, uh... where do I start... I think my first memories are from when I was... yes, five or six, just like you. I don't remember in which order though, but I remember my parents arguing, fighting. I think I was too young to understand what exactly was happening at the time, but their loudness stuck with me, I guess. I remember my mother using me as her personal servant, and my dad ignoring me unless I was useful to him. I remember going to schools where I liked no one, skipping high school to do shady things, that kind of stuff, y'know. I remember a good deal of things from that era, but nothing really worth mentioning. That was when I started scamming people for a living, though. I think some of my classmates called me a snake because of that ? But all high schoolers are assholes anyways. And don't get me started on middle schoolers."

Schlatt was doing his best to keep his voice as neutral as it could be, to try and distance himself from his memories. He also attempted to ignore Ghostbur's sad face and Quackity's uneasy look, focusing himself on the softness of the grass under his palm.

"But uh, yeah, school wasn't good, home was worse, and I just kinda survived in the middle of everything. I left as soon as I was able to, I think. I don't remember moving out, must have been a happy memory, but I do remember living by myself, sleeping in the woods, terrified of what could happen to me, what monsters I could encounter. I guess I met you, Wilbur, a little after that ? Which, yeah, I don't remember. Must have been nice though. There are quite a lot of holes during that time."

A hesitant smile appeared on Ghostbur's face. Schlatt felt horrible for having to tear it to pieces.

"I... do remember you from that time, though."

The light in the guitarist's eyes diminished as he realized what that meant.

"Oh..."

"Yeah... I'm sorry. I- I probably overreacted though ? I mean, I'm pretty sure you were just being playful and I reacted too strongly to it, but... well... y'know how you mentioned us escaping the water ?"

Ghostbur just nodded, visibly anxious.

"I... I remember you pushing me into it. Into the water."

The ghost's eyes widened in shock, his hands going to his mouth as he audibly gasped. A quick glance to his side informed Schlatt that Quackity's reaction was similar.

"Yeah... it kind of sucked. I mean, as I said, I think you were doing it playfully ? In a "haha, got you !" kind of way ? But I wasn't expecting it, I just- I just recall the way you stopped walking and turned around, and then smiled, and I didn't have time to ask you what was wrong before your hand was already on my chest and I was already falling back, and then I hit the water and I gasped, but the only thing filling my lungs was water, and- well, yeah. I thought I would drown right there. I thought you'd just decided you were done with me for whatever reason and you were trying to get rid of me."

The horror was only becoming more apparent in Ghostbur's whole behavior as he tried to move backwards, only stopped by his back hitting the tree he had been resting it on.

"My god, Schlatt, I- I'm really sorry, I didn't-"

"Don't you go blaming yourself for that," Schlatt interrupted him, annoyance surfacing through his tone. "I got over it, didn't I ? Hell, I probably gave you hell after that, but it's all fine now. And hey, it's not like I haven't experienced actual death by now."

"I don't think that should make it better," Ghostbur smiled a little.

"Too fucking bad because it does."

Schlatt heard a snicker to his side and couldn't refrain from smirking, but continued his story, though his tone was a little lighter.

"Uh, what else do I remember... well I remember you leaving, Will. That kinda sucked to be fair. I don't think you ever told me it was for a girl though, you bastard. And then there are a lot of other people and faces. I don't remember meeting all of them, but I remember each of their attempts at betraying me. Joke's on them, I wasn't even that disappointed anymore at that point. But uh, yeah. I remember some of my company's failure, though I remember neither creating it nor the obvious success it encountered. And then... I remember Manberg."

"Don't you mean L'Manberg ?" Ghostbur inquired.

Schlatt shrugged, careful to not show his disappointment at the fact that they had been so quick to undo the change - the changes - he had brought to the nation.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I... don't remember exactly how I discovered its existence or how I moved there. I don't remember seeing you again. But I do remember thinking that you had changed. That you were less... stable. It kind of scared me. Maybe that's why I decided to run for president."

He didn't want to see Ghostbur's reaction, so he looked at Quackity instead. Quackity who was clearly anticipating that part of the story. It wasn't that surprising ; it was, after all, the part he appeared in.

"I, uh... I don't remember meeting Quackity. Or making a deal with him. I remember a debate, not that long before the actual elections. I was losing at that point, I think. Then the elections of course."

He took a deep breath. Now it was going to get hard.

"I... don't remember the first part of the elections. The announcement of the winner."

Ghostbur's visible curiosity slowly shifted into confusion as he frowned and tried to understand what the meaning of that was.

"The next thing I remember..." he took another deep breath. It was shakier than the first. "Is standing on a podium, over an agitated crowd, as I stare straight into your eyes and announce you and Tommy's exile from L'Manberg."

Silence.

Ghostbur didn't make a sound. He simply opened his mouth, his eyes going from Schlatt to Quackity as if he was hoping either of them would laugh and deny what the horned man had just declared.

They didn't.

"But," he finally uttered in such a weak voice that Schlatt's heart sank, "that can't be right... I... I won the elections... I did, right ? Didn't I ?"

Quackity sighed.

"You kind of did, I guess ? But that lasted, like, a minute, because right after that, Schlatt and I announced that we were pooling our votes together, and we beat you at the very last second. I suppose you only remember the first part because that was the happy part for you..."

Ghostbur stared into his hands as if his whole world had just turned upside down. His eyes had gained that haunted look from earlier back.

"Did I... lose the elections ? Was I- was I never president ?"

"You were. Just... before the elections."

Quackity seemed to hesitate, glancing at Schlatt before he added, in a quieter voice :

"But I have to say, I'm... surprised you remember exiling them, Schlatt. Especially since, you know. You only remember the bad things."

Schlatt blinked, before realizing what his ex-vice president was implying and letting out a mirthless laugh.

"What, you thought I had enjoyed it ? Banishing my old friend, who I had managed to find again after disappearing for years, and a sixteen year-old child ?"

The man pulled his beanie lower in embarrassment, and Schlatt lost his sarcastic smile.

"... but you're not that wrong, because that's not the only reason why I remember it. Because... because I was both drunk and power drunk at the time. Well, drunk is a strong word, maybe inebriated would be more correct, but yeah. I let wine and power get the best of me, and instead of, I don't know, talking to Wilbur, to avoid the catastrophe I saw incoming, I acted stupidly and hurt so many people. A man, his son ; a child, his best friend ; most of the people standing in front of me and listening to my speech. I told them I would bring change, and bring change I did, in the worst possible way."

He sighed, trying to avoid both of his listeners' gazes, the words heavy on his tongue.

"The regrets of exiling Wilbur and Tommy can't compare with the shame of giving in to my impulses and destroying so many lives."

A tense silence followed his declaration.

He couldn't stand it.

"Anyway, whatever, it's over now right ? Uh... what else... I remember a lot of stress, boring paperwork, feeling every person around me glaring at me behind my back. Wasn't the most fun thing, but yeah, I'd gotten used to not being liked by people at that point. But uh... I have to admit that I don't remember Quackity that much for the beginning of my presidency, so I assume I liked you at first ? And then, yeah, it got worse. Obviously. I... I'm not sure why, but I started becoming paranoid of everyone around me. Certain that they were all lying to my face and planning on stabbing me in the back as soon as I relied on them too much. Which, can you really blame me ? Most of them were actually waiting for that opportunity. But uh... Apparently, not all of them were. And of course, I fucked that up."

He refused to look at Quackity. The man didn't say anything either.

"The festival, of course, where I decided to blow up a sixteen years old because he was a mole. Well, technically, I asked Technoblade to do it, but eh. I was the one responsible for all of it. There's no dancing around it. I publicly executed him, and I think at that point everyone just wanted me dead. And then... I ended up breaking the trust of the one person who had stood by my side because I was so terrified of them betraying me that, I don't know, I decided to betray them first ? That was just a moronic move. Perhaps the one I regretted the most when I was kind of sober."

Schlatt still didn't dare to glance at said person, so he focused on Ghostbur instead. Ghostbur who was watching him with anticipation and... _pity_.

Pity was the last thing he had ever wanted to see in his interlocutor's face, because pity meant he had lost.

Pity meant he had failed.

Except he couldn't even be mad at Ghostbur because the only person responsible for his failure was himself. Because he had caused his own demise. Because no matter how much he hated it, he didn't even deserve that pity.

He kept talking.

"Not like I was sober a lot after that anyway. It had all been getting progressively worse during the past few weeks, but after that it all just went downhill very quickly. I had no support, I was alone. Not a single person in Manberg had the tiniest bit of affection for me. They were right, to be fair. Uh... I think I made a deal with Dream and he betrayed me too. I hadn't expected much from him anyway. And then, the war between Pogtopia and Manberg happened. Lots of people on your side, almost no one on mine. I got cornered into some building, had a heart attack, and died surrounded by my enemies. A fitting end for a bastard, asshole, tyrant, whatever."

Some words went to the tip of his tongue, but he refrained himself from pronouncing them. They didn't need to know. It didn't matter.

"And uh, yeah, I think that's all I remember. Questions ?"

"Why ?"

Surprisingly, the question didn't come from Ghostbur. It came from Schlatt's side, from Quackity, who was staring straight at him, his gaze so hot that the horned man could have sworn he felt himself burn.

"Why are you lying ?"

Uh oh.

Schlatt scoffed in a pathetic attempt at masking his distress.

"The fuck do you mean ? Did I forget something ?"

"No, you didn't. There's no way you forgot this because there's no way it's a happy memory."

Oh no.

"What do you mean ?" Ghostbur inquired.

Quackity's eyes still hadn't left Schlatt's.

"Should I say it ? Or do you want to first ?"

Schlatt gulped, internally imploring the man to stop.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

That was the wrong answer, apparently, because a small, sad smirk formed on Quackity's lips, contrasting with the rest of his perfectly stoic face.

"You didn't die of a heart attack.".

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ -

"You fucking killed yourself."

The words dropped like a bomb.

If Schlatt still had had a heart, his heartbeat would have gotten quicker. His hands were shaking lightly, so he lay them on his knees, staring at them and ignoring everything around him.

There wasn't any way out of this, was there ? He had to answer, didn't he ? He couldn't just lie or ignore the question, Quackity knew his antics too well by now, he wouldn't let him go like that.

"... So you know, then," he sighed. "How ?"

He was stalling, he knew it and he was fairly certain his ex-vice president knew it too ; nonetheless, he didn't say another word, waiting for the man to answer.

"Next time you drink cyanide, don't keep the tag on the fucking flask, asshole."

Schlatt snorted, though it was more of a nerves thing than anything. Of fucking course he had done that. What a moron he was.

"But you're avoiding the question. Why, Schlatt ? Why did you take your own life ?"

"You say that as if I wasn't going to die anyway."

The words escaped his mouth before he could even think. In any case, he couldn't just dance around the subject forever.

"You say that as if Techno, as if Wilbur, as if you didn't want my head on a spike. As if you weren't all staring at me in expectation, waiting for someone's patience to wear thin and for them to snap and take me down. As if there was any other way out of this."

He raised his head, his eyes meeting his interlocutor's as a resigned smirk formed on his lips.

"Tell me, Quackity. What would you have done in my place ? If you had been aware of your loss, aware of everyone's hatred, aware of your imminent death, wouldn't you have chosen to keep your honor safe ? Wouldn't you have decided to take your own life, as a final refusal, a final "fuck you" to your enemies ?"

The oppressing silence that reigned after his declaration was telling. Schlatt just shrugged.

"Anyway, we now have heard the entirety of what I recall. Questions ? Another objection, maybe ?" he playfully elbowed Quackity, though his elbow went through the other's arm.

Ghostbur seemed to be taking everything he had heard in, but he eventually nodded, before turning to the only alive man of their group.

"Now please, Quackity, I'd like you to tell me everything that happened between Schlatt's death and mine. I- you told me that was the reason everyone was awkward around me, and they're all acting like I'm made of glass and telling me what I've done could shatter me, but I... I think I'm strong enough to bear the truth. Please."

Quackity's eyes went from Ghostbur to Schlatt, as if he was silently asking for advice or for some kind of confirmation. The horned ghost just shrugged. He had no idea what had happened after all. Quackity sighed yet another time.

"Very well, if you're sure... So like, it all happened on a single day. The whole rebellion thing, Pogtopia reconquering L'Manberg, Schlatt's death, it was all very fast, really. After the fucker died, we all went to the podium to celebrate, and I'm not exactly sure why, but for some reason people tried to get Tommy to be the next president ? But he refused, said he didn't want that, he only wanted his discs, and he handed the power over to you, Wilbur. Except you didn't want it either for some reason ? I don't know, I just remember you saying that there was only one person fit to be the president, and of course I was kind of hoping it would be me but you chose Tubbo, and I can't blame you, the kid's doing pretty good so far. He made a speech, everything was fine, we were all happy to be done with the tyrant."

His eyes darkened as he lowered his chin, visibly remembering the events of that day.

"Except it wasn't over yet. Technoblade... Technoblade got mad. Said he'd joined us to destroy the government and we'd betrayed him by creating a new one or some shit. Shot Tommy and all, made a real villain speech. It was terrifying. And then..."

He looked over at Ghostbur, seemingly hesitating to keep talking.

"And then... Wilbur blew up L'Manberg."

Ghostbur's eyes immediately widened as he gasped in horror. His hands went to his chest and he began breathing faster, lightly shaking as if he could not fathom having done what he was told he'd done. Schlatt was shocked too, though not as much as the man himself. He couldn't even begin to imagine being told he'd acted in such a horrendous way without even being able to remember it. At least he knew what he'd done ; but Ghostbur was completely ignorant and had to face the consequences of the actions of a man he couldn't remember being. The other ghost seemed completely devastated.

"... What ?" he finally let out. "I... destroyed L'Manberg ? But... But why ? Why did I do that ? Why- why would I ever want to blow up my greatest achievement ?"

His voice was weak, hesitant, broken. It contained so much pain, so much distress that Schlatt couldn't take it. He stood up, walked over to him and fell to his knees, hugging him in a tight, warm embrace. It didn't matter if the only memories he had of the man were dreadful, he needed comfort, and some deep, buried part of him instructed him to provide it. Somewhere, deep down, he recognized him as a friend.

Laying his head on Schlatt's chest, Ghostbur started lightly sobbing.

Quackity didn't say anything, but the sorry look on his face was enough.

The three of them stayed still for a while, the silence only broken by Ghostbur's occasional weak whimpers. Schlatt just awkwardly pat his back - he wasn't exactly used to physical contact or affection, and though he didn't exactly dislike them, he wasn't sure what to do to bring comfort to the man. Hell, he knew nothing about comforting people, and the few times people had started crying in front of him he had been the one to make them cry. But he had to start somewhere, right ?

"Listen, I... I fucked up badly during my life, and I remember it very well now that all the alcohol has worn off. I hurt so many people and remorse aren't enough to repay that. I... don't think anyone is happy to see me still being here. No one wanted me back. But you've got friends and shit, hell, your dad, your brothers and your son are there, and I can only assume that they're happy that you're back. I mean... Yeah, you went a little apeshit at the end, but they stood by your side until that. Maybe... maybe you've forgotten the bad memories as some kind of new beginning ? A way to fix your broken relationships and experience happiness ? I don't know. But you're not what you did."

Against his chest, Ghostbur's sobs started slowing down, until they became irregular enough to allow him to speak.

"But I did do these things... I- I destroyed L'Manberg, and they're all still rebuilding it because of me !"

"Perhaps you did. And what ? Can you go back to the past to change that ? You just have to keep moving forward."

A moment passed before Ghostbur raised his head, looking into Schlatt's eyes. He still had tears streaming down his face, but his face had been slightly illuminated by a shy smile, and he pulled the other ghost closer to him, tightly hugging him for a few seconds before pulling away and releasing the grip he had had on his sweater.

"Thanks, Schlatt," he whispered. "But you know, you should give yourself more credit. I'm glad that you're here. I'm glad that you're my friend. And... And I think Quackity is too."

Schlatt blinked before letting out a small, pained laugh. He didn't need to turn to the alive man to know what he would find on his face. Horror, disgust, anger. He didn't want to see these. Not more than he already had.

"Yeah, that's cute, Will, but you're wrong. Quack over there certainly isn't happy to see me, and he shouldn't. I've verbally abused him, I've made his life hell, and I don't expect his forgiveness. I wouldn't forgive myself in his place. And you wouldn't either if you could really remember me. It's... It's just like that. I'm an asshole."

"But why can't I define myself by my past actions if you are doing it to yourself ?"

"You can't remember doing these things," Schlatt shrugged, "and I can. It's as simple as that. I'm responsible and you aren't."

"Schlatt..."

"Stop, you two," Quackity's voice interrupted them.

They both turned towards him, only to find that he had picked up Wilbur's guitar.

"Please don't put your words in my mouth. Just let me speak."

The two ghosts simply nodded.

"Listen, Ghostbur... I didn't really know you before the elections, so I can't attest to what you did before that, but every single person I've met that did know you during that time has told me what a great leader you were, brave, heroic, compassionate and all that stuff ; Tommy and Tubbo practically worshipped you, Fundy respected you, Niki appreciated you, everyone loved you. And during and after the elections, well, we were rivals of course, but you were nice to me when I ran away from Manberg and joined your rebellion. You were going crazy, sure, but you gave me a chance to fix my mistake and to be a good guy, and I'm thankful for that. Obviously I'm a little upset for the whole "blowing up L'Manberg right after we'd won it back" thing, but I'd rather be mad at Technoblade for what he did to all of us, and well, we did rebuild the nation together. And ever since you came back you've been one of the nicest people I've ever seen, except maybe Niki. So uh..."

Quackity looked away from Ghostbur, staring at his own hands as he pat the guitar's side.

"... yeah, I think I forgive you, man. Can't exactly just forget everything yet, but maybe that'll come later. You should still try to talk to Fundy though, I think he's been kind of affected by everything, but... I think even he will forgive you eventually."

Ghostbur's smile grew as the man talked, his eyes starting shining with tears again, though these probably didn't come from his sadness anymore.

"Thanks a lot, Big Q. Here, have some blue," he said before handing him some sort of blue crystal.

Quackity raised an eyebrow, but didn't protest, grabbing said crystal and storing it in one of his hoodie's pockets.

"Thank you Ghostbur."

His eyes, however, darkened as he turned towards Schlatt.

"Now you."

Schlatt did his best to mask the shiver going through his spine. He nodded.

"Ugh... where do I start. You know, I liked you in the beginning. When we met, when you offered me a deal that would benefit both of us. You were funny, you were influent, you were powerful. You seemed to be able to fit the entire world in your palm and crush it on a whim. I was drawn to you like a moth to a flame. You offered me victory, you offered me power, you offered me recognition. I thought it was a perfect opportunity, didn't see I was making a deal with the Devil. I accepted."

He stopped there, his eyes meeting Schlatt's. Both stared at each other for a while, the atmosphere having become noticeably more tense than when he had been talking to Ghostbur. Quackity sighed.

"I... I didn't see immediately. It was fine in the beginning, y'know ? I mean, you did exile Wilbur and Tommy on the first day of your presidency, but I thought I understood why. You were nice at first too. We got along well, we flirted as a joke, you listened to me, it was fine ! And then... and then, I don't know. You became completely paranoid. You thought everyone was going to betray you, which, yeah, they did, but still... You opened up to me once, and it was like you refused to even acknowledge it after that. Like you refused to acknowledge _me_. You fucking went crazy man. You executed Tubbo for wanting to see his best friend. You stopped listening to anyone, especially me. You kept flaunting your position in everyone's face, going "I'm the president, I get to decide" every time someone tried to say anything. You... You destroyed the White House. The building I'd spent so much time building. That fucking hurt, y'know ? All my efforts gone, reduced to dust. So yeah, I wouldn't classify my experience with you as a good one. No, screw that, it was fucking shitty. I'd rarely hated anyone as much as I hated you during that time."

Schlatt's heart dropped to his stomach. He knew all of that, of course he did. He knew how much he had fucked up, how much everyone wanted him dead, how much pain and suffering he had caused. But hearing it out loud still hurt, because being aware of it usually didn't prevent him from living in a state of semi-denial, but hearing it from the victim's house definitely did. Because it was forcing him to confront how awful he had been.

"I... I can't forgive you."

There it was.

Of course he had known it was coming.

Of course he had been expecting it since the very moment Quackity had started speaking.

Of course he didn't think he deserved anything else.

It still hurt.

Perhaps because somewhere, buried deep under his subconscious, he had kept a spark of hope. Because a tiny part of himself had wished that the man would indeed forgive him, that he could have spent eternity as a ghost doing something more than just walking around aimlessly, alone with his shame and regrets, watching the people of L'Manberg live a happier life now that he was gone.

But of course, that hope had been vain.

It was for the best. Quackity had every right to be mad at him. He deserved it.

Schlatt stood up.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I... understand. I- I'll leave you alone, then. Have a nice... day, year, life, whatever."

He felt the light warmth fade away from his legs as he walked away and progressively became invisible again. He didn't need to be seen anymore, anyway.

"Wait, wait- God, you're so fucking annoying. When did I say I was done talking, asshole ?"

Schlatt turned around in surprise. His last words had been a pretty conclusive statement. What more could he have to say ? Yet he didn't disappear, making himself fully visible again instead, to avoid talking to his interlocutor as just a torso.

Quackity let out yet another sigh as he laid Ghostbur's guitar on the grass next to him before standing up to face the ex-president. His face was firm, his eyes determined and his fists clenched. Schlatt thought for a second that he was going to punch him. He didn't.

"As I said, I can't forgive you. I just can't. You've done too much wrong for me to just overlook everything. I can't just look at you and not see the face of the man that stood against me in front of the White House and threatened me with a pickaxe. But..."

The man stopped and took a deep breath, speaking slowly in what seemed to be an attempt at choosing his words carefully.

"But... I... you don't... you don't feel exactly feel the same anymore. I mean- you're the same person, obviously. It's not like Ghostbur, you haven't changed because you can't remember the things that went wrong in your life. No, it's like... it's like you know what you've done. I mean, I feel like I'm finally experiencing a sober Schlatt. Perhaps a true Schlatt. You don't reek of alcohol, you don't have that smug, "I'm better than you" smirk anywhere you go anymore. I... I think you kind of changed ? I- I don't know. I just... feel like you wouldn't do what you've done in the past if you were put in the same situation. Maybe it's weird ? Maybe I'm too naive ? But I... I kind of want to get to know this version of you. If you do anything wrong, I'll immediately cut you off and stop talking to you, but... maybe for now, we can try to get along ? I can't forgive you, but maybe I can give you a second chance."

Schlatt froze.

This... this was more than he'd ever expected.

Not forgiveness. But a second chance.

He didn't deserve that, he knew he didn't.

But his spark of hope had been lit up again.

And well, if it came from Quackity, if he was the one to suggest it, then maybe...

Maybe he could be a little selfish ?

Tears started welling up at the corners of his eyes.

Whatever remnant of his pride he had left screamed at him to push them back, to hide his feelings because showing them meant he was weak.

He ignored it.

"I would love that," he whispered. "Thank you so much, Quackity."

Both of them smiled at each other. It was still hesitant, still kind of awkward, but Schlatt hoped it wouldn't be anymore someday. He hoped someday, they would be able to truly smile at each other in joy, to truly talk without distrust, to truly live together without spending every second ignoring the memories of pain and betrayal storming at the back of their head.

Today was not that day. But that day would come. He was going to make sure it would.

"Great ! I'm glad you two are fine now," Ghostbur exclaimed, a wide smile crossing his face. "Here, why don't you just lie down and enjoy the breeze ? I'll play some nice tunes and we can all just relax !"

Quackity and Schlatt nodded, the first encouraging the second to go ahead with a sign of his head. The horned man did as instructed, feeling the grass under his hand as he leaned on it to lie on the ground. The pain he had been feeling ever since waking up had lessened.

"We're going to have to tell the others that I'm back too," he realized, his heart beating faster. "What if they don't accept me ? What if they reject me ?"

"Later," Quackity whispered. "We'll deal with that later. Maybe hide you for a day or two, to prepare for the announcement. But for now, just relax, ok ?"

Schlatt couldn't help the thoughts and the panic still going on inside his head, but he tried to make abstraction of them. Later. For now, he had been accepted by the person he had hurt the most and had gotten back an old friend. For now, everything was as fine as it could be.

"Ok," he whispered back.

He just lied there, looking at the foliage of the tree that was hanging over him and at the sky behind it. He couldn't see Quackity nor Ghostbur, but he knew they were there too. He could imagine the first lying down on the grass too, a few feet away from him, and the second sitting, leaning on the tree as he set his guitar on his knees.

"I have to admit that I only remember the melody to this song, not the lyrics, so no singing for me today," the other ghost joked before starting to strum the strings of his guitar.

As he did, music filled the place. It was a simple melody, and a familiar one. Sounded like some kind of hymn. Had Schlatt heard it somewhere ? Perhaps he had. It was comforting, in a way.

Yes, he thought, closing his eyes. He'd lived a pretty shitty life. He had had a rubbish childhood, had made a living off of scamming people, had screwed up an entire nation for his pleasure. He'd been an asshole and he definitely didn't deserve forgiveness.

But he had a new opportunity to correct his mistakes. He had a new beginning.

And perhaps it was too good to be true. Perhaps he would face Tubbo, face Fundy, face all the people he had hurt and be rejected, thrown away.

But for now, he was just happy.

Quackity had given him his trust, and he was going to work hard to never break it again.

On to a new day.

A new beginning.

For Ghostbur, for Quackity, and for L'Manberg.


End file.
